Seer
by escptheshdw835
Summary: Maybe he shouldn't have provoked Lavender. But how was he supposed to know that she would tell the whole school? That almost all would shun him? That he'd end up unconscious in the hospital wing? Damn Lavender and her predictions. Slash
1. The Truth Will be Told

_:curses loudly: I hate when stupid technology messes with me. :whine: Well, I've posted this again, changed grammar and wording of things, nothing major. Hope it's a bit cleaner. I don't have a beta :sob: So I'm all on my own. Onto the next chapter!_

_Disclaimer: Don't own it._

* * *

Dean could see the mistakes Seamus made that led up to 'the incident'. Though the sandy haired blond was completely oblivious. As usual. 

Dean and Ginny broke up, as most teenage couples did. While he was okay with it, for some reason Seamus didn't believe him. Of course, most people probably weren't normally alright with breaking up with someone, so that could have been it.

But Seamus, so Dean consistently repeated to himself, was just trying to be a good friend. Yet, on the other hand, and damn this thought for continuing to crop up, he did ignore his own girlfriend, or whatever Lavender was to him, for a week. The week leading up to 'the incident' as they later called it.

They were sitting in the Great Hall that day, Seamus eating his food, avoiding Lavender's eyes, while talking to Dean. Dean just watched this whole thing with slight amusement. Seamus could be such a child sometimes. When the girl stalked over to them, he thought he knew what was coming. Thinking back on it though, Seamus _had_ looked much too pale.

"We need to talk. _Now_." Her voice was cold and hard, as was her grip when she yanked the slight boy out of his seat and towards the door. This is where Seamus' first mistake came into play. He made her stop before leaving the dining area, effectively capturing every student's attention.

They argued for a while, hushed voices misleading, but their angry glares not so. After a while Lavender said something to him that made Seamus slip up, thus making his second mistake. He made fun of her.

"Oh, just go make a bloody prediction or something, with your loony professor." As her eyes narrowed maliciously. Even Seamus, his dense friend seemed to know he made some kind of mistake.

Lavender spoke in a loud, clear, voice, for the whole school to hear. "I predict that you'll tell everyone you're a bloody queer and are hopelessly in love with-." Unfortunately, or at least in everyone else's opinion, someone cut her off.

Hermione Granger, who happened to be coming to breakfast late, probably studying or something, hexed her. Well, that could only really be assumed. But as she was the only person with a wand out, pointing it at the furious girl, it was a fairly safe bet. Hermione was glaring at the Lavender hatefully, whispering something to her, clearly furious.

This is where the third mistake came into play. As they say in the muggle world, three strikes and you're out. Seamus ran. The idiotic boy _ran_ out of the hall.

If he had stayed he could made a comment, done _something_ that convinced some people that it was a lie, a joke, something. But no, his mind apparently wasn't in control. Or maybe it was. Frightening concept, that.

As soon as the doors clanged. Well alright they didn't clang, being made of wood and all. As soon as the doors _slammed_ shut, the whispering began. Professor McGonagall took the hex off Lavender who declined to comment on anything further and Hermione lost 10 points for Gryffindor. Apparently the professors felt she was in the right spirits.

Secretly, Dean was impressed, never knowing the bushy haired girl to act like that before. "So, err, 'Mione, that was a bit harsh," Ron ventured when she sat at the table.

"No, I don't think so. She quite deserved that and more if you ask me. It's lucky I came back from the-"

"Library," everyone else in her year finished for her.

"Oh, well, grow up," she snipped, putting food on her plate.

When Seamus didn't venture to return, Dean left. Thinking as he walked, he pondered the most unlikely place to find the other boy. An idea in his head, and happy that it was his next class anyway, he headed towards the dungeons.

Sure enough, the sandy haired blond was sprawled upon the floor. He was leaning against the stone wall, glaring at the door to his potions class. "Seamus, glaring at the door won't make it burst into flame," Dean said cheerfully. His mood was damped by the response, or lack thereof.

Normally Seamus would have done something dramatic, jumping up and complaining about the injustice or something of the like. But he just sat there, staring at a door leading to a room he hated. "Come on, it's not that bad." This comment was delivered a little less happily.

Still no response. "So, err, is it true?" As the hurt filled eyes locked on his, Dean realized this might not have been the best question, given the situation.

"Yeah, wanna make something of it," was the frosty reply. Dead was shocked, to say the least. Seamus had rarely spoke to anyone like that, and never to him.

"No, just wanted to hear your side of it. Sorry if I wasn't allowed to ask." He smiled slightly to soften the comment. This was why he rarely let his mouth speak on its own.

"Whatever," Seamus sighed. Dean exhaled heavily, sitting down abruptly next to the other boy. If Seamus wanted to sulk and pout and whatnot, he very well could, but it didn't mean he'd be left alone to do it.


	2. Harry and Draco

_I lied. In my update twenty or so minutes ago, I said I wasn't changing it that much. Well, I'm not. Sortta. Dean's a bit more confused in my edited version, but I think that adds instead of takes away from the story. But it's still mainly the same. :Happy look: Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I disclaim already!_

* * *

The rest of the day had passed without incident. Well, without _major_ incidents. 

Malfoy had been too busy tormenting Harry throughout the potions class to pay much mind to Seamus. The only odd behavior was the way everyone would whisper when they thought Seamus wasn't listening.

Dean was, to be frank, growing quite annoyed by this. He walked down the hall with his friend and watched all eyes swivel to them. Even in class people couldn't seem to keep their heads. It wasn't as though this was such a big deal. It didn't alter anything. Or at least, it shouldn't have.

He had to admit, he _was_ very surprised when nothing happened until after dinner. It was then that Malfoy approached them. What a shocker. Malfoy being mean to someone. "Hey Finnigan," the blond sneered. "Going to meet your boyfriend before bed?"

In Dean's opinion, the insult could have used a little bit of work. It wasn't original and could be taken as just a simple inquiring if not for the tone of the speaker. All in all, he gave it a 3.4.

Seamus, to give him credit, said nothing. He wore the same look Dean had seen on his face all day. A mixture of absolute fury and utter sorrow. Not a combination he would have thought possible, but then, Seamus was an expert at the impossible.

They went to move around the blond, but were intercepted by his goons. Note the use of goons and not friends. No, Malfoy was too good for friends.

"You're such a bloody fairy. Why don't you fight instead of just walking away?" Seamus lifted his gaze this time, meeting the gray eyes. His eyes were scary and looked almost dead.

"Stop being so scared, Malfoy. I'm not going to shag you on the spot, though I doubt you'd mind." Dean was amazed at that comment, or to be precise, how it was delivered. The sandy haired blond was utterly calm, face not showing a hint of the anger he had to be feeling.

"I'm not gay!" Me thinks the lady doth protest to much, or something like that. Now that Dean was paying attention, he noticed the flicker of fear in Malfoy's eyes. Though what he was afraid of, he couldn't say.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Dean spat, taking up his duty as best friend, and pushed past the blond and after Seamus. "And stop whining," he called over his shoulder.

As they retreated from the Great Hall, he was pretty sure he could hear the blond whining that he didn't whine.

Of course, trouble has to come in more than one event. Normally threes, or so he had heard, but then, maybe that was just a muggle thing. Hermione would definitely be the person to ask on that. He really should work on keeping focused too.

Back to the point, Dean never expected the next incident to be with his roommates. They had gotten along, for the most part, for five years. Had lived together in a room for most of those years. He had thought they were friends. But then, he thought Seamus was straight. And oh how life loved to prove him wrong.

As they were changing for bed, he could see the raven haired boy-who-lived watching Seamus out of the corner of his eyes. If conflict had to occur between any of them, it would be between Harry and Seamus. Both with notorious tempers and perhaps Harry was holding a bit of a grudge from last year.

It seemed like Seamus' patience had finally worn out, as he didn't ignore the attention this time. In fact, Dean was expecting this to happen much earlier. "Problem, Potter?" Seamus all but spat. Fire danced behind his eyes.

"Nothing." A lie, that much was obvious. Harry rapidly turned away, eyes averted.

"The same I said to Malfoy holds true for you. I'm not going to shag you. Merlin, I've been your bloody friend for six years and you suddenly don't want to be around me!"

The almost fear Harry had been exhibiting had been forgotten and now he was angry as well. "Just shove off Seamus; you're acting like a git."

"Me?" Seamus asked, incredulous. Dean, personally, couldn't blame him. Neville didn't look ready to either. "You're the one acting like a complete prat! Oh, too good for me, are you? Fine, then sod off. Or maybe I shouldn't say that, might get the wrong bloody idea!" He stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut as hard as he could.

Harry glared at everyone, daring them to say anything, before sinking onto his bed. "Bloody queer," Dean heard him mutter. He was pretty sure no one else did. Or maybe they were just willing to let it go, as he was the boy savior. Or because Harry was right, Seamus was….not that should matter. Ah, trails of thought he had ventured down not too long ago.

Feeling his disgust with people rise to new levels, Dean left the room as well, being much quieter with the door.

His best friend was curled in front of the fire, on the carpeted floor. "Shay?" Dean asked softly. Seamus turned his head, the glow of the fire playing on his pale skin, glinting off the liquid on his face.

"It's not fair, Dean," he whispered, pulling his knees closer. "I didn't do anything wrong, did I?" The black boy sat next to his friend, staring into the depths of the fire.

"No Seamus, I don't reckon you did. Don't worry about it, things'll work out." Dean stiffened slightly when a head landed on his shoulder, but soon relaxed.

"I don't want things to work out; I just want people not to be such gits. It shouldn't have to 'work out!'" Dean could feel the anger rising in his friend once more.

Before he could reply a voice spoke from behind them. "Seamus, Dean's on your side, so stop attacking him." They both twisted their heads around, seeing Hermione watching them, dressed for bed. "I'm sorry I was at breakfast so late, I suppose my spell wasn't in time to stop her from saying anything at all."

Seamus shifted slightly, facing the girl. "You stopped her from saying enough, thanks 'Mione." Dean glanced at his pale friend. He hadn't known they were good enough friends for him to call her that.

He had mixed feelings about Hermione showing up when she did. On the one hand, she had saved his sandy haired friend further embarrassment. But, and as much as he hated to admit it, he wanted to know who Lavender was going to say he was in love with.

Looking at the girl once more, Dean caught the warning glance she was shooting him. A glance which clearly said 'Don't ask him, or I'll kill you.' Well, he could have been imagining the last bit, but he wasn't too sure anymore.

"Don't worry about it, Seamus. Everything will work out for you," Hermione said, starting towards the stairs. She grinned at his expression of shock before disappearing into the girls' dorms again.

"Bloody mental, that one," Seamus muttered, though Dean thought his face looked slightly flushed. But then, that might have been the heat. They had both faced the fire without comment, the head returning to his shoulder. The comforting warmth was making him drowsy and soon his own head was drooping.

"Floor's hard, Shay," Dean mumbled.

"Mmm," was the reply from the nearly asleep friend. He was fairly certain the dorms were too far for him. He sleepily pulled his friend to his feet, crashing down on the comfortable couch a mere two feet away. No comment escaped his lips when the other boy fell on him, as he was already asleep.

00000000000000000000000

The next day was a Saturday, and yet Dean awoke early. Sleeping on a couch would do that to a person. However, it was more what he woke up to that was unsettling. Seamus was lying on top of his chest, face down. Dean's arm was thrown around the sandy haired boy's waist and he woke to breathing on his face.

He shifted slightly, trying to get the feeling back in the arm crushed between them. Unfortunately this woke Seamus up. The sandy haired boy had an expression of shock on his face ten times more intense than yesterday in the Great Hall.

Dean quickly shut his eyes, pretending to be asleep, surprised that the other bought it. Maybe he wanted to. When Seamus removed himself, he found he missed the heat that the body had provided. Best not to think too much about that.

"Fates, tempt me not," Seamus muttered to himself. Then all thoughts were driven from Dean's mind when lips brushed against his own. Quashing the desire to return the gesture, he forced his face to remain blank. Certainly another thing not to dwell on.

Only after he heard thumps going up the stairs did he open his eyes once more. The bushy haired girl was sitting in an arm chair by the couch, watching him. "You actually fake sleeping pretty well."

He was glad for the darker tint of his skin, masking the heat rising to his face. "I'm not involved," she said. "I had to promise not to say a _word_."

"About what?" Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"Really! Boys are so dense!" She marched back up her own staircase, leaving Dean to ponder her words. He may have been dense but she was annoyingly vague!

He stayed seated on the couch, his thoughts conflicting. He only moved once he heard a shriek come from upstairs. What _now_?


	3. Meetings

_This is a bit changed from the original. More internal angsting. I like this version better anyway. Now for the update! I know you're all as excited as I am...not...but oh well!_

_Disclaimer: Ah, screw it._

* * *

As Dean entered through the open door, he froze. Seamus was already standing motionless, staring at his roommates. He looked like nothing more than a stone statue. 

His bed had been pushed into the far corner, along with the rest of his stuff.

Ron was still in bed, having slept through the ear piercing scream. Harry and Neville were both awake, both looking vaguely uncomfortable.

Seamus' hands were clenched at his side, shaking slightly. Tension reigned in the room and Dean was shocked Ron couldn't feel it, even asleep as he was. Unsurprisingly Seamus was the first to crack. "You are an incredible **git**!" the boy shrieked.

Harry said nothing, not even looking at his roommate as he got out of bed and pulled clothes from his trunk. "And you're a bloody queer," he said quietly. Oh, that boy never learned.

Seamus screamed again, wordlessly. He stormed over to his own trunk, yanked clothes out and stalked over to the raven haired teen. Seamus invaded his personal space, eyes narrowed viciously. "_I'm_ going to take a shower before _I_ go to Hogsmade. So perhaps you'd rather not go to the bathroom or the village today." With that he strode from the room, leaving behind three shocked teens.

"Don't you think that was a little cruel, Harry?" Neville questioned quietly.

Harry shrugged, changing in a quick manner, sparing no one a glance. Dean, finding his voice once more, stalked over him.

"What, not afraid to change around people you think are straight?" he whispered, face dangerously close to the other's ear. The emerald eyed teen froze. "Just remember, everything isn't always as it seems."

He changed quickly, not giving his mind time to process what he actually said. He had a feeling that thinking right now wouldn't result in anything good. The only thing that he was painfully aware of was his roommates staring at his back.

* * *

Dean found Seamus in the Great Hall, jabbing his fork at the eggs on his plate. He obviously hadn't showered, just lied so as to take the ability to do so away from the boy-who-lived. Good for him. "I hate him, I hate them all," he muttered as the dark skinned Gryffindor sat.

"I know," Dean offered soothingly, effectively ignoring his own inner turmoil, and pilled food onto his plate.

"They keep _staring_ at me. I'm not a bloody show! I don't deserve to be treated like an object," he stated, actually eating some of his tortured breakfast.

"I know," Dean said again. "But you can't do anything about it. You can't increase a person's intelligence and make them less moronic, it's just not possible." The blond just groaned, pounding his head into the table. "So, are we going to go now?"

Seamus looked up, confusion quickly turning to understanding and then a mixture of fear and annoyance. "I…can't. I have to meet someone there," he said softly, raking fingers through his hair.

Dean masked the hurt he felt, shrugging in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner. "Doesn't matter; see you 'round then." Why did he fell hurt anyway?

"Yeah," the blond offered. "Look, I'm really sorry. I mean, I know we always hang out together an-."

"Just forget it Seamus," Dean snapped abruptly. He softened his tone immediately, seeing the shocked expression on the other Gryffindor's face. "Sorry, but really, it's not like I'm your-" The teen snapped his mouth shut quickly, realizing what he almost said. Damn it, where had _that_ come from?

Ignoring the quizzical look that Seamus was shooting at him, he retreated from the hall, walking towards the entrance. He shifted direction at the last minute, heading towards the dungeons. It was unlikely anyone would find him there.

He walked blindly, trying to make sense of what he called his thoughts. Why the heck was he so bothered when Seamus said he was busy? Because his friend was bailing on him?

Well, that fit until he thought of his reaction to this morning. To Seamus…kissing him. And then what he had said to Harry.

Was that it? Was he gay? There wasn't anything….wrong with that. Dean groaned. For once, it would be nice if something was simple.

* * *

Seamus moped towards where Filch was waiting, nearly too late. He shuffled along with the rest of the students, rubbing his eyes occasionally. Maybe he ought to try and get more sleep. Though thoughts of last night brought a smile, albeit a small one, to his face.

"Hey Finnigan," a voice hailed from beside him. The blond glanced sideways, and saw Blaise watching him.

"Zabini," he offered in response. They continued on their way, Seamus attempting to ignore the curious looks sent his way and Blaise just staring ahead blindly.

"I'm sorry about…you know, Malfoy and everything," he said blandly, face impassive.

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry your boyfriend's a prick," he shot back quietly, smirking slightly. The taller teen shrugged.

"But I knew that going in so I can't really complain," he answered, equally as quiet.

"You should though. Otherwise he's just going to keep being a damned prat," Seamus stated, seeing his friend shrug again.

"Nothing I say is going to change his mind. To be honest, I'm sick of trying to get him to tell anyone. Shame about Lavender though, thought she was really sincere in what she said," Blaise said. He was quite good at trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, well apparently she wanted to go out with some kid and was tired of covering for me. Whatever, it's her problem, not mine. Well, actually, it is my problem," he said, laughing humorlessly.

They were in Honeydukes now, keeping their tones light and quiet so no one could but speculate over what they were talking about. And Seamus was sure they were speculating and by tonight all of Hogwarts would be speculating.

"You know, you could just tell, without involving the blond git at all," Seamus suddenly declared as they were paying for their candy.

Blaise looked at him blankly for a moment before horror broke over his face. "He'd break up with me," the other teen squeaked and if the place had been any more crowded, someone might have overheard.

The sandy haired boy sighed, dragging the Slytherin out by the arm. They made their way to the Hog's Head, knowing most people wouldn't care what they talked about there.

They sat at a grimy table with equally grimy bottles of butterbeers. "You do realize it's not healthy to be that attached to someone in a one sided basis?" Seamus offered gently, knowing how this conversation often went and determined to change it.

Blaise glared at him, also knowing where this was headed. "There's nothing _unhealthy_ about our relationship," he growled out.

"Right, I'm sure there isn't. But for the fact that he completely ignores you in public, can control what you do by the threat of breaking up with you, treating you like dirt even when you're alone? How is that healthy?" Seamus questioned, keeping his tone mild.

"We're not publicly friends, so it would be odd for him to acknowledge me and he doesn't treat me like dirt! I'm just an arse sometimes. And who would want their boyfriend to break up with them?" Blaise said this all quickly, glare intensifying.

"Look Blaise, I really hate arguing with you. But…but he makes you think you're nothing! He does it to everyone. Has he ever even called you his boyfriend before?" This was a question that had been bothering him for a while but he only dared ask now.

The shifty eyes that met his question gave him the answer he didn't want to hear. Instead of further anger the Slytherin hid his face in his arms. "Come on Zabini," he said, pulling on the teen's shoulder.

The suddenly mute boy allowed himself to be led back towards the castle. "Look, I'm sorry. I guess I crossed a line or something," Seamus said quietly. The darker boy wouldn't look at him even when they were inside. "I'm sure Mal-_Draco_ cares for you in his own odd twisted way."

His comment was met with a cold laugh. "No Finnigan, don't worry. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm sure you're right. Why would he like a bloody loser anyway?" Seamus tugged on Blaise's arm, but the other pulled away, nearly running towards his dorms.

"Blaise, you're not a loser. Stop letting him bloody control you!" The other ignored him and Seamus sighed in exasperation. This was shaping up to be a wonderful day. Not.

* * *

Dean was sitting on the couch in front of the fire, staring into the flames when the door opened. A blond, sulking, figure emerged, plopped onto the other end of the couch and curled on his side. "Bad day?" the oddly calm Gryffindor asked his seemingly upset friend.

Seamus mumbled a response. A thought seemed to occur to him after a while for he sat up. "What're you doing here? I thought you were going to Hogsmade for the day," he accused. He made it sound like Dean had wronged him by not going.

"I was going to go but there wasn't anyone I wanted to go with so I felt my time was better spent staring at the fire," he explained, still holding onto the unnatural calm.

The two sat in companionable silence for as long as five minutes. "What were you going to say earlier?" Seamus asked suddenly. "Before you left."

Dean avoided looking at him. "Nothing," he whispered, unnaturally still.

The blond shook his head, yawning. "I don't feel inclined to believe you but I'm too tired to argue about it," murmured.

Seamus had somehow managed to get closer than he should have been. Of course Dean didn't even seem to notice until he laid his head on the taller boy's shoulder.

"You should go upstairs, sleep in your bed or something," he said, flustered. Seamus merely groaned, moving closer, legs curled under his body.

"Not going up there, bloody savior, prick," he breathed before falling asleep.

* * *

Dean just sighed. This hadn't been how he saw his day going. He was doing find angsting in front of the fireplace.

He had spent the morning trying to clear his mind and make some sense of things to no avail. Not that coming back here had been much help either. So, for now, he shoved everything away and ignored it. That was quite healthy. He was sure of it. Insert eye rolling here.

Seamus had a real talent for screwing with him sometimes. 'No, that's definitely not the right train of thought to continue with,' he thought to himself.

So there he sat, staring into the fire and attempting to continue his earlier activity while ignoring the person cuddled against his side. No, correction, now Seamus' head had dropped into his lap. This was certainly an unpredictable several days.


	4. Accidents Happen

_Well, I had first written this chapter but it got deleted, so I rewrote it and it turned out really differently. I haven't updated in a long time, and I'm reeeally sorry._

_Actually, I've updated the past three chapters so I think they're a bit better. I hope._

_And I also hope that this isn't a total twist from what I was already writing. And I hope you all still enjoy it. Pleeease review, they feed my soul:grins: Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: Oh, you know it by now._

* * *

Seamus hadn't intended to fall asleep, much less basically on top of his best friend. In fact, he was surprised that was still the case. Dean had put up with his bad moods, snapping and often broody behavior and didn't even pitch a fit when he was blown off earlier. 

So yes, he was very surprised that Dean hadn't left him high and dry yet. The black boy had his fingers entwined with Seamus' hair, though he was asleep. No surprise. He couldn't have been any more comfortable sleeping on the couch last night.

No one had gotten back yet, at least he hoped. That would just give the rumor mills even more entertainment, wouldn't it?

Seamus showered quickly, having been a bit spiteful this morning and missed taking one. By the time he had used quite a bit of hot water and the quick shower had turned into a long time to think, people were milling about the common room.

Not having eaten in Hogsmade, he hurried down the flights of stairs. Apparently many others had the same idea as him as others were already around the Great Hall. And, surprise surprise, he was the topic of their conversations.

Before Seamus could dart into the dining area and surround himself with something that wouldn't turn on him, food, he was jerked backwards. Jerked backwards into an alcove. A rather dark one at that. This would doubtlessly look wrong to whoever saw it.

Blaise was staring at him, eyes wide and slightly red. "He broke up with me." There wasn't any doubt about who Blaise was talking about. Bloody Malfoy.

"Why?" Oh how his life was getting more complicated by the minute.

"People saw us….in Hogsmade. They think it was like…I don't know, a date or something. So then, people were talking about it. You know, other Slytherins. And Dray overheard them. He got really pale and started flipping out when we were alone. He screamed and raved and in the end said he wasn't going to go out with a flaming queer and broke up with me. But it wasn't a date Seamus, tell him it wasn't a date! Please!"

Surprisingly, Seamus managed to catch the response in its entirety. Which was good, because the Slytherin wasn't in much of a state to repeat it, if the fact that he had started to cry was any indication.

"Blaise, do you know how messed up that is? Didn't he think that going out with you…_he_ was gay too?" But no, Seamus knew the answer to that. He knew Malfoy looked at it only as sex. Not that he was going to tell Blaise that. Not exactly the right time to point it out.

The other teen rested his forehead on Seamus' shoulder as he sobbed. Bloody Slytherin ice prince. He was such…such a prick!

* * *

Dean continued to sit there for a while, running fingers through sandy hair. He didn't even realize he had fallen asleep until the sounds of people woke him. Apparently the Hogsmade trip was over and it was time for dinner.

Seamus had also disappeared, Dean noticed as he stood and stretched. Someone he certainly didn't want to face tonight. Not that he had much choice. If he started to avoid him he'd be no better than anyone else.

So, it was with this in mind that Dean began on his path towards the Great Hall. He was still remarkably tired. Apparently inner angsting and feeling sorry for oneself, accompanied by slumbering on a lumpy couch wasn't the best for resting.

Most students had left the halls by this point. Seemingly caught up in gossip. They were even busier talking than they had been this morning. People really needed to start caring about their own lives.

Dean looked up from the floor, eyes widening as his steps slowed and then stopped. His stomach felt like it dropped threw the floor while the rest of his body seemed oddly numb.

He turned slowly, putting one foot forward, fighting the feeling of being rooted to the spot. Another foot followed and another until he was bolting down the corridor. He ignored the fact that moisture was accumulating on his face and his heart felt like it had been put through a grinder. No, the only thing he saw was Seamus _kissing_ Blaise Zabini.

* * *

Seamus was shocked, to say the least, when Blaise stopped crying and kissed him. In fact, he felt the world stand still. Not in a good, oh my, I think I'm in love with this person kind of way. More of a 'please don't let that have been who I thought it was' kind of world standing still kind of way.

"Oh Merlin. Oh…damn it. Damn, damn, damn. I'm sorry Seamus. I'm sorry. Oh Merlin." Blaise's rambling died out after a minute or so. "Seamus? Seamus, you okay? Seamus breathe!"

The dark haired Slytherin smacked Seamus on the back and he felt the rush of air in his lungs. He turned his head slowly, eyes locking with his friend's. "Seamus? Do you completely hate me now?"

"N-no…it's not…your fault." He was still feeling incredibly far away and detached from this moment.

Maybe if he stopped being here everything would start making sense again. The whole school wouldn't know he was gay, Blaise wouldn't have gotten dumped by Hogwart's biggest prat and Dean _wouldn't_ have seen Blaise kiss him. Double underline that. Triple even!

His world started to spin. Talk about sensory overload. The past two days had probably been some of the worst ever. Too much to think about…too much to absorb. He didn't hear Blaise shout, nor did he feel his head clip the side of the statue when his body collapsed. What a great day.

* * *

Dean skipped dinner, sulking in the library instead. Well it _did_ stand to reason if Seamus was gay he had a boyfriend. He _was_ a sixteen year old boy, horny and all that. He also _had_ said he was going to meet someone earlier. But he hadn't expected to see him snogging some bloke in some deserted alcove. Or at all.

But then why had he kissed _him_ that morning? Maybe it was…between friends or something. That didn't mean he had to like it though. His head was starting to hurt, just thinking about all this.

He hated how jealous he felt when he saw Seamus kissing Zabini. Did that mean he liked Seamus? Did liking his best friend make him gay? He groaned, head dropping to hide in his arms. Life should really be less complicated.

"Dean?" Hermione actually looked mildly worried. Dean started to feel bad for assuming she was only friends with Harry and Ron. "Are you alright? You look a bit…off."

"I'm fine," he lied. She didn't look convinced. Not that he could blame her. He didn't feel very convinced either. "What're you doing in here?"

She smiled at him. "It's the library Dean, I'm always here. Why are _you_ here?"

He shrugged miserably. "This is where I ended up. Is it so weird to not have expected Seamus to have a boyfriend?"

That wasn't what he meant to ask. His mind was starting to gain control again, without consulting his brain first. Hermione looked surprised.

"Well….no, it's not weird to not have assumed that. I…wasn't aware myself. What led you to believe this?" Dean grimaced, scene flashing before his eyes.

"I saw him…snogging Zabini." No, he didn't utter the Zabini's name with disgust. Because he wasn't jealous.

"Dean…Blaise…was going out with Malfoy…last I talked to Seamus." He glared at her.

"Obviously he's not anymore!" No, he wasn't jealous at all. Because that would mean he _did_ have a crush on his best friend, which he didn't. Right? That headache was coming back again.

"Dean, calm down. Maybe you misunderstood what you saw. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for everything." Yeah, then what was the 'reasonable explanation' for the reason everything was starting to spin out of his control and he thought he could possibly be in love with his best friend. Wait…_in love with?_

To be fair, it wasn't Hermione's fault. She never even asked him why he cared. "Come on Dean, maybe it would help to go back to the common room? You look a bit tired anyway." He let her lead him out of the almost deserted library and towards the portrait.

Standing in front of the picture of the fat lady was the person he least wanted to see at that moment. Zabini, oh goody. The boy looked nervous, in fact, down right pale. His hands seemed to shake at his side and he only opened his eyes once he heard them both approach.

"Blaise? What's wrong?" Hermione really surprised him. She was friends with people he never even talked to.

The Slytherin looked decidedly more frightened than nervous. "Something…happened." And the way he said it, Dean was fairly certain he wasn't referring to kissing his best friend. Why him?


	5. The Woes of a Confused Mind

_A/N: I'm finally out of my I hate the world funk (for now at least) and I've stopped cutting myself off from everything in some weird attempt to make me feel better. Haha, I'm so lame. Anyway, I didn't abandon this, despite how it obviously seems and I swear, swear, swear, I'm writing the next chapter. Sorry. I'm a horribly neglectful person._

_Apparently I'm also an idiot who only has two stories posted but still manages to put this as an attachment to the wrong one. Heh. Sorry!!_

* * *

It was surpising, the things people told a person when they were unconscious. Or supposed to be unconscious. But you hear one interesting thing and you're hooked so you keep up the act. Which might, morally, be the wrong thing to do. But damned if it wasn't kind of funny. 

Seamus had learned several things over the course of the night. Namely that Blaise was really sorry and admitted that Seamus was actually right in his assumption that he didn't have a healthy relationship.

Draco and his revelation that he was actually sorry that he was a total arse and that he apparently felt incredibly guilty about how he treated people. That he didn't mean to, it just happened. Which could have been a lie. But then, he thought Seamus was unconscious, so why would he lie when he didn't think anyone would know what he was saying. Problem for another day.

There was the couple that was using the hospital room as a secret rendezvous. He didn't know them enough to guess who they were by their voices. But they sounded quite into each other.

There was also Lavender who felt guilty and was apologizing. Well good, she best apologize. She could have gone back on the deal in a much nicer way without being so snotty. Though, he had expected her to abstain from dating someone just so he wouldn't have to explain to people why he wasn't.

Eventually his bushy haired friend appeared as he had gotten bored with pretending to be unconscious and had been trying to lick his elbow when he heard the door creak open.

"Very nice attempt at someone who is unconscious, but I don't think their breathing should be that labored if all they were doing was laying there all night," she remarked, sitting in a chair by the bead.

Seamus sighed, sitting up and glaring at her. "I very well could have been having a heart attack or something, you git."

She rolled her eyes. "Seamus, you're a bloody moron. And it's not kind to pretend to be worse off then you are when people are worried about you." Blah, blah, blah.

"But people tell me things. It's fun!" he declared.

"And that's fair? These people don't expect that you're learning what they're saying. It's not fair to them for you to be awake and listening to all their confessions."

Leave it to Hermione to suck the fun out of everything. He scowled. She grinned. "Where's Dean?"

Her grin faded. "He's having a bit of a….panic attack of sorts."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000

How could he go and get himself stuck in the hospital wing like that? That was down right rude of him. Because now, if Dean went there people would know he went there and would think that he was there to see if Seamus was okay. Which….was why he would go there. And they were best friends.

So basically, if he didn't go, people would speculate. Wonder if they were fighting, a lover's spat. But they weren't lovers. But people would think that if he didn't go. But they would if he did go.

Dean groaned as he shifted on the couch, staring at the fireplace upside down. Eventually his head started to throb but then it was doing that before too. He truly hated to admit it, but it was killing him.

The not knowing, not the headache. He probably shouldn't have been so stubborn as to stalk past Blaise without finding out what that something that had happened was. Hermione never came inside. He wanted to know!

No he didn't. He didn't really care that much. Just a mild, friend concerned for another friend type of caring. But then couldn't friends care deeply for one another. Hermione and Ron were always real worried when anything happened to Harry and they didn't both want to shag him.

Not that he wanted to shag Seamus, but still, that was just an extreme example. But so what if he did, not that he did. Because he didn't.

Hadn't he told Seamus that he didn't do anything wrong by being gay? Was he a hypocrite? What made it different for him to be gay than for his best friend? Lots of things, namely his parents and the fact that after seeing how Hogwarts treated Seamus, he doubted he could put up with that.

Did that make him a bad person? But it didn't matter, because he wasn't gay. But if he was gay did it make him one? Lavander entered sometime after everyone else, distracted looking.

He shouldn't ask her. It would be wrong. But his subconscious wasn't exactly showing him to be the most moral person in the world right now. "Lavander-"

Her head whipped around, eyes zeroing in on him. Her expression was slightly manic. More than slightly. "Oh Dean, it's just awful!"

Yes, it was, the way she latched onto his arm the second he was sitting upright again. "Err, there there," he supplied, awkwardly patting her on the back.

"He looked so….so….dead! And it's all my fault!" Wha?

"Wh-"

"Of course, I shouldn't have said anything! But that boy just gets under your skin and you can't help it! And it was a little unfair for him to expect me to keep his secrets, especially when it means that I can't date who I want to," she gushed. Seamus? She killed him? Well that would certainly put some people in a bad mood, killing some-wait, he was dead?!

"What happened?" he asked, this time managing to slide the entire question into the conversation.

She glanced up at him, startled. "You don't know? Well apparently as Zabini told it, he was talking to Seamus in the hall and the poor boy just keeled over. But he's a Slytherin and can't take their word for anything. Anyway, he cracked his head on the statue and was unconscious and I felt so guilty! If I hadn't said anything he wouldn't have been in some deserted hallway! And he looks so…so…"

"Yes, dead. You've said," Dean cut in. She mistook his sourness towards her as anger towards….well something else.

Eventually she was consoled enough to go upstairs to her dorm leaving Dean to his oh so clear thoughts. Unconscious? Why was he unconscious? Well obviously he hit his head. But still. That was bad, wasn't it, to not just wake up?

What if he died and Dean never told him how he felt? ….well he should probably first figure out how he did feel, but if he did like Seamus and the Seamus went and kicked the bucket, he would feel just awful. But then, he wasn't gay so it didn't matter, did it?

He groaned again, sprawling across the entire couch. This was so frustrating. Plus he wasn't getting any sleep and wouldn't have any time to do so tomorrow because he didn't have classes to sleep through and people would be noisy.

"Dean?"

It was Hermione. Looking mildly annoyed. Actually mildly was putting it….well mildly. "The one and quite possibly only." Ooh, wasn't he witty at "What time is it?"

"Close to four." Ha, at four in the morning he was very witty! "Why are you still up?"

"I…don't really know," he admitted, reluctantly making room for the girl to sit. At least she didn't cling to his arm.

She nodded, distracted. "Did you ever consider that Seamus is quite possibly the most annoying person in the entire world?"

That wasn't the question he was expecting. "Um, sometimes. Why?"

She stood, brushing invisible dirt off the front of her outfit, shaking her head. "No reason, just thinking out loud. Well get some rest, night."

That conversation had been oddly unfulfilling. It was Hermione, he had been expecting some insightful wisdom into his own mind.

Not that he needed such insight, because he wasn't gay.

It was going to be a long day.


	6. Stressed Out

**A/N: I don't think the timeline makes sense. Seamus is several hours ahead of Dean. So for Seamus' POV, it's Sunday afternoonish, Dean, it's still morning, going on afternoon by the time he gets to the library. Plus, I know I said I'd update but I'm a horrible person and got lazy. On the upside, I am writing the rest of it as I post this so it should be posted tonight or tihs weekend.**

* * *

Eleven.

Twelve.

One.

Two.

Seamus watched the hours tick by slowly. Pretending to be in a small coma was really hard work. Especially when it was Sunday and everyone was out, enjoying their weekend. No more secrets. Plus, Hermione has managed to take _all_ the joy out of it.

He couldn't even lay on his side and it was quite impossible to sleep while on your back. And as a result he was tired, but if he rolled over they would know he was awake and then the charade would be up. And Dean still hadn't come to visit him.

Which did raise the question of whether or not he would listen to his friend's confessions. The door opened and heels clicked across the stone. Click, click, click. Madame Promphy, who he was pretty sure wasn't falling for his ploy.

Must keep still.

Still.

Can't move.

Curses, his nose itched.

Seamus mentally ground his teeth together. He wouldn't scratch. He wouldn't scratch it. He would not scratch it.

But what if it were a bug? And it was crawling over his skin leaving icky bug germs and was slipping its way into his nose where it would crawl into his brain and take over and he would become dead…or a brain eating zombie!

With a shriek Seamus launched himself up and out of the bed, madly attacking his nose. No bug would get him.

Pomphrey was staring at him. Smirking.

"There's no mind eating bug?"

She shook her head. "Just your imagination Mr. Finnagin."

He crossed his arms, pouting. "I guess I have to go, huh?"

* * *

"Go."

"No."

"You should go."

"Nope."

"Dean-"

"Look, I'm sure you mean well, but I am quite fine right here," he snapped, yanking the pillow over his head.

"Dean, I just think-"

"No, you don't. Obviously you don't because you have not mapped out all the possible consequences of all actions in a very handy flow chart nor have you imagined every possible negative outcome, listed them, gave them point values and totaled them. Nor have you been up all night!"

He seethed. He was tired. He was edgy. And the last thing he wanted was Neville here, acting as his conscience. At least the boy left. Now he could sleep. Finally.

"Dean Thomas!" Apparently not. Bloody hell. "What do you mean, yelling at Neville like that? Or staying in bed when you should go visit your friend."

Why did everyone seem so fit to interfere in his life when he really wanted them to go drown in the lake? Was there some memo that was sent out, how best to annoy Dean? "Sod off. I'm tired. And what right do you hav-"

"Grow up. I'm not in the mood for your excuses, now get up or at least look at me!" Shrill, piercing voice. Dean mumbled obscenities under his breath, rolling onto his side to look at the red head. "That's better," she said, obviously satisfied.

"Go away," he said slowly.

She smirked, _smirked_, at him. "No. Not until you promise to grow up, be a big boy, and go talk to your friend."

"He's unconscious, how much talking can he do?" he snapped again.

"Perfect, all the more reason for you to go and talk to his prone body. And how do you know he's still out, have you _gone to see him_?" she asked, her voice resuming it's shriek towards the end.

"Don't you think Harry will be looking for you?" he snipped. Low blow. Take that Ginny Weasley.

She sighed, rolling her eyes in an overly exaggerated fashion. "I will never understand boys. So thick headed."

"_I will never understand boys. So thick headed,"_ Dean mimicked, pulling the blanket up over his head.

"Fine Dean, lay in bed all day and be miserable."

Fine, he would! He would lay in his bed and mope all day long, hopefully getting some sleep, and then mope around school. It would do him just fine. Who needed human interaction anyway? He could spend the rest of his life sleeping or doing school work and never have to talk to any of these annoying people again.

He grumbled as sleep continued to elude him. This wasn't fair. Nothing seemed to be fair anymore. Nothing.

He would just go to sleep. He would get to sleep, sleep, quiet and restful sleep. He had just about dozed off when the image of a sadny blond head popped into his mind. "Argh!"

He threw the pillow soundly across the room, knocking various things of Ron's end table. Oops.

He hadn't changed since yesterday and he didn't stop to do so now, instead storming out of his dorm and down, past the gathered Gryffindors and out into the castle. Those that were in his way moved after he shot them with a very pleasant look.

He would get to the bottom of this and he would do it now so he could finally sleep!

* * *

He found her in the back of the library, where else, doing some homework or maybe just some 'light' reading for her own pleasure. He didn't care. Dean sat down opposite her, slamming the hefty volume shut, glaring. She sighed, bushing her hair away from her face. "Yes Dean. Can I help you?"

"Yes, you bloody well know you can help me. So why haven't you yet? Why were you not offering your frustrating advice that is almost always right on the mark?"

"Because my advice, while usually correct, is very rarely wanted or listened to. And I do believe that two of your friends offered you some this morning and you callously yelled at them and offered your reply in the form of cutting, cruel remarks."

He scowled. Yes, technically he had, but he was tired. "I'm sorry. I would really like to hear your advice now."

She stood, tucking the book into her bag. "Love is love."

He stared after the girl as she left the room. "Great big help that is!" Several second years looked over at him. "Sod off," he snapped and they busied themselves amongst their own work.

His head thunked heavily onto the table over and over. Why couldn't life just make sense?


	7. Avoidance

Yay for not having updated in forever. I'm pretty bad at that. I've been drawn back in now though, I really enjoy writing and I've missed it for the past yearish amount of time! So hopefully this is pretty nifty and enjoyable! Read. Review!

* * *

Madam Pomphrey ended up agreeing to let him spend one more night in the hospital wing after she discovered he had neglected to mention the continued headache and bouts of dizziness. Surprisingly, or worryingly, depending on your perspective, it wasn't even faked.

It was a slow day. At one point a group of third years appeared, half dragging a brown haired girl who had apparently fallen down the stairs while staring at some cute boy. But other than that it was a quiet day. By dinner time had rolled around, the Gryffindor was regretting having to stay here another night.

Ginny, Neville and Hermonie had all stopped into visit him but none of them stayed long and yet the one person he wanted to see still hadn't come. He picked at the dinner tray that had been left for him, finding his appetite gone.

"Eat your dinner Mr. Finnagin, or shall I have you stay another night?" the nurse inquired, popping out from her office to check on him.

"I'm not hungry," he muttered, nonetheless shoveling an overfull spoon of potatoes into his mouth. He gagged as he forced himself to swallow, before giving up as his stomach rebelled against the food.

The nurse tutted but he ignored her, curling onto his side. His head was starting to ache again. The hours continued to drag. Drag. Drag. Drag. Finally after a long evening of angsting he finally managed to slip into a fitful doze.

* * *

Dean managed to creep back into the common room, gathering his books and going back to the library, to accomplish his ever mounting pile of homework. He ignored the dark look that his ex-girlfriend shot him and the superior one of Hermonie.

The teen worked through lunch, not getting as much done as he had anticipated. For some reason he kept getting distracted, staring out the window, his mind straying to the sandy haired boy whose condition he had no idea of.

It was growing dark when Blaise cautiously approached him. His skin was a few shades lighter than Dean's and his eyes were red rimmed. "Hey Dean."

"Zabini," the Gryffindor remarked coldly.

The silence stretched between the two of them, as they gazed at one another. Dean took the time to appraise the Slytherin. His clothes were rumpled and he had a miserable expression on his face. "Can I talk to you?" he boy asked him quietly.

"I'd rather you didn't," Dean snapped, turning his eyes back down to his parchment. He didn't hear the teen move and after another few long moments, he sighed, tossing his quill down and rubbing his eyes. "What do you want?"

"Don't be mad at Shay," Blaise started.

Shay? _Shay_? When did he become Shay to the slimy cold blooded Slytherin? His anger must have showed on his face because he started talking again. "I didn't…he didn't…Seamus isn't my boyfriend. I mean I'm not…I mean…it's my fault! I didn't mean for you to see or," he sighed, hitting his head against the library table, drawing an angry glare from the librarian. "Seamusisn'tmyboyfriendandI'msorryandpleasedon'-"

Leave it to Seamus to find what must be one of the only other boys who could be just as confusing as him. "Zabini," Dean said, with much less heat in his tone, "just…say what you want to say okay?"

"Fine. I kissed Seamus. But we're not dating. It's the only time we've ever done that, and he definitely doesn't like _me_ like that. And I just…wanted you to know I'm really sorry…for making this all harder for you boy. Just…tell him I'm sorry?" And with that strange and unhelpful speech the Slytherin stood and vanished, his robes swishing along behind him.

Another hour later, Dean gave up. He wasn't hungry but since he hadn't eaten since yesterday, he figured now was about time and he made his way down to the Great Hall.

* * *

Going down to grab a bite to eat seemed to have been the wrong move he found out not long later. Harry was ignoring meeting his gaze and Ginny was still looking like she would like to rage at him. The only one who tried to talk to him at all was Neville, who looked hesitant to do so, probably because of Dean's earlier outburst.

"Have you…yah know…how is he?" the black boy asked, feigning nonchalance.

"Y-Ow. Well, I've _seen _him," Neville answered, shooting the bushy haired girl to Dean's left a dirty look. Hermonie didn't look up, her nose buried in a textbook.

"But you haven't talked to him?"

"Err-" Again Neville shot the girl a look and seeming to gain some confidence went on. "No. He's been out the few times I went to go. He looks okay though," Neville offered lamely.

Dean made a face, poking at the food he should have been hungry enough to devour. Yet he was pretty sure if he tried it would just taste sour in his mouth and make him wish he hadn't bothered as soon as he swallowed.

He was such a git. How could he leave his best friend lying there for hours, nay days, without even trying to find out how he was. How did that make him any better than Malfoy or Harry? He was just as big a prat.

What was his problem. Why did it matter that Seamus was snogging Blaise, even though according to the Slytherin, Seamus had had no say in it. But even so, what did it matter? Dean shouldn't care, Seamus was still Seamus. A shameless flirt with sandy blond hair that always got into his face as he tried to take notes or mix potions, often crouching so low over his papers that he got cute ink stains on his cheek or nose…

Some time must have passed as he sat there engulfed in his thoughts. A bony finger prodded his side, jolting him from his stupor. "You alright there Dean?" Hermonie asked.

"Hmm? Oh..yeah I think so. Why?"

"Oh..you just had this goofy look on your face. Looked like you were thinking of something that made you happy," she said with a knowing look.

Dean started, feeling the familiar stirrings of panic creep up on him again. Did he? Well of course he liked Seamus, Seamus was his best friend! And why wouldn't he make Dean happy?

"Dean, why don't you just go talk to him?" she asked, once more snapping him into the present.

"I…uh…I." He took a deep breath, grabbing his bag as he stood up. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he muttered, slumping out of the nearly deserted hall.

* * *

It was after 10 when the sound of the creaking door woke him from his unrestful slumber. Despite his earlier misgivings and Hermonie's earlier chastising, Seamus couldn't help but hurriedly roll over and pretend to lapse back into unconsciousness.

A heavy bag thumped on the ground beside his bed and someone sank into the chair near his bedside. All he could hear was the other boy's breathing and his head was facing the wrong angle to sneak a glance.

Time went back to it's former slow creeping and Seamus began to doze again, lulled into a sense of security by the other watching over him. His headache had even started to lessen. Just as he was about to fall into a deeper sleep the visitor sighed. Seamus took a chance and tipped his head towards the chair, thankful his hair was long enough to partially cover his eyes.

And there was his best friend, hunched over in his seat, head burried in his hands. It looked like his shoulders were shaking but he hadn't heard a sound from the other boy since the sigh.

"Merlin I'm so in over my head," he heard Dean mutter, his voice sounding choked and far away. "I-"

For some reason a voice that sounded suspiciously like Hermoine Granger's piped up. _You're really going to spy on your best friend, let him tell you things he doesn't even think you're going to hear. That's low, really low._

His internal struggle caused him to miss what his friend said next and unconsciously he let out a sigh. He felt the boy freeze next to him and heard him groan. "Really Seamus?"

Seamus sighed again, giving up his act. "Nice to see you. _Finally_."

Dean looked taken aback before his days of frustration exploded into anger which he was suddenly quite willing to take out on his friend. "Yeah, well nice to see _you_ snogging Blaise."  
"What's it to you?" Seamus snapped back.

"Nothing!" Dean hollered. "Just…you could have told me. If you wanted to ditch me earlier to meet some Slytherin."

Seamus' own temper was easily a match for Dean's. "Blaise isn't _some Slyherin,_ and I don't have to report to you where I'm going! And he's not my boyfriend! He kissed me or is your head so far up your arse that you really think I _wouldn't_ tell you I fancied someone!"

"Yeah, like you told me you were queer?" Dean sneered. "Like you told me Lavander was just a front? Like you told me you were friends with Blaise? Like you've told me _anything_ in the past who knows how long?!"

Seamus was sitting up now, head pounding too. "Yeah, and _you_ ditched me while you were dating Ginny! You never hung out with me! I didn't have much choice to make other friends, did I?" he shrieked. "And how did you know Blaise and I were friends? I didn't SAY THAT EITHER!"

Dean paused for a second, a guilty look flashing across his face. "He wanted me to apologize for him," he admitted grudgingly. "And said he doesn't like you like that-" he delivered, biting off each word, his arms folded across his chest.

At that point Seamus lost it, clambering to his feet on the bed so he finally had a height advantage on the taller Gryffindor. "Then _why the hell are you mad at me?" _he screamed. He had been unsteady before but on the bed he was hard pressed to keep his feet.

At that moment Madam Pomphrey's light clicked on and she stormed out of her room, in a rather frilly nightgown, taking in the sight before her. "Mr. Finnagin, get down _now!_" He made a face, stepping forward to hop off the edge, his head spinning. His footing wobbled and he tumbled forward.

Expecting another painful altercation with an inanimate object, he was surprised when his body crashed into a warm yielding one, sending them tumbling onto another bed. "Oof-" Dean said, the air being forced out of his lungs.

Seamus felt the taller boy's arms tighten around him as he pressed his throbbing forehead against Dean's shoulder. "Seamus? Are you okay?"

"No Mr. Thomas he is not alright! He was supposed to be resting, as I believe you were supposed to be in your dorms! Now kindly release my patient and return to your dormitory."

The sandy haired boy felt himself being stood up as Dean levered himself off the extra bed. He chanced opening his eyes seeing brown eyes staring down at him, worry present. "So you weren't faking it?"

"No, he was not. Now release him and go back to bed before I am forced to report your behavior to your head of house. The moment broken, Dean relased him and Seamus stumbled unsteadily to his bed, plopping down on it ungracefully. The Gryffindor walked towards the exit, Pomphrey following closely behind. "You may come collect your friend in the morning if you wish Mr. Thomas," the nurse said rather more kindly befroe slamming the door in his face.


	8. Confusion Conclusion?

**A/N: I am so proud that I actually managed to update this again in a timely fashion. I guess it helps I wrote the past 2 chapters all at once haha. Oh well. I think hopefully I can wrap this up soon and it will be super duper and wrapped up! Enjoy!**

* * *

Dean groaned and grumbled as he heard sounds of his roommates climbing out of their beds and getting ready to face the day ahead. He had just managed to get to sleep an hour ago and even in that brief hour, his subconscious had managed to plague him with the same thoughts that had kept him awake in the first place.

Now he was going to have to spend another day suffering at the hands of his best friend who didn't frankly even know he was causing Dean any suffering. He waited until the sounds of the three other boys had ceased before shoving his bed curtains aside and stumbling to the bathroom.

After the shower being as cold as he could make it, he managed to feel slightly more awake. He dressed blearily, knowing that he couldn't avoid Seamus forever. He wasn't even sure why he was avoiding him. But Dean really didn't want to continue their rather heated conversation from last night. He was pretty sure he had given away more than he had intended. More than he had really even figured out for himself.

Dean tried to do all he could to stall but after checking that he had the right books three different times he had to admit it was time to face the music.

A walk that normally took five minutes seemed to fly by and he soon found himself outside the infirmary door. He peeked in and felt something in his chest region give a painful twist at the depressed and forlorn look covering his best friends face as he sat slumped on his bed.

Squaring his shoulders Dean plastered a smile he rather didn't feel on his face and strode into the room. After all Seamus had been there for Dean, whether he had wanted him to or not, when Dean and Ginny split. IT was time to put his best friend first. He could figure out all this confusing feeling stuff later if ever. Actually, never sounded pretty good to him.

* * *

Seamus sighed, tying his shoe while waiting, hoping really, that Dean would show up. His headache was nearly gone though his mouth tasted foul, having endured a rather disgusting potion Madam Pomphrey had forced him to down this morning.

Maybe if Dean would hurry up, he would have time to get breakfast. The thought of breakfast drew Seamus' thoughts to how his company was still rather unwanted by the majority of the school. Even Dean had freaked at him when he saw him kissing Blaise.

He hung his head, sandy blond hair covering his eyes. He would not cry. Only girls and babies cried. And he wasn't either.

A shuffling sound made his head snap up and he saw Dean there, wearing a rather manic looking grin. "Err…hi?" Seamus said cautiously, angry that he was so surprised to see his best friend actually showed up. "You…alright there Dean?"

The black boy's smile dimmed a notch and Seamus noted with a pang of worry how tired the other boy looked. "Yeah why?"

"Um, just that you look a little…well frankly mate you looked like you had snapped and were about to do me in like in those muggle moving picture things," Seamus said, feeling himself as he waved his hand dismissively at the mention of the movies Dean had made him watch one summer.

The other teen smiled and rolled his eyes. "Come on, if we hurry we can still get some food before class."

"Food!" Seamus declared, happiness disappearing a second later when he realized he didn't have any of his books.

"Never fear my formerly injured friend!" Dean declared, "for I have remembered that which you have forgotten!" When Seamus gave him a blank, slightly worried look, the taller Gryffindor sighed. "Your books. I have your books."

Seamus bounced off his bed grinning and hugged his friend. "Did I ever tell you you're the best?" the sandy headed teen asked.

Dean forgot to breathe and he felt that thing in his chest give another twist. Hazel eyes turned to look into his own, curious. He forced himself to smile. This was about Seamus! Making Seamus feel better! He would just have to ignore these odd physical feelings as much as his thoughts! Must stick to the plan!

Seamus sighed when Dean still hadn't moved, grabbing hold of the other's hand and pulling him towards the Great Hall and where he would obtain better food than he had been subjected to over the weekend. Back to his friend, he missed the panicked expression that planted itself on his face until his hand was finally released and Seamus planted himself on the bench.

He smiled up at Dean, looking happier than he had in days and Dean sighed, the first real smile of the day tugging up the corners of his mouth. He shook his head and piled food he didn't feel able to eat on his plate. Concentrating solely on operation Make Seamus Happy, Dean missed the two girls who were watching them from the middle of the table, identical knowing smiles on their faces.

* * *

Somewhere far away a bell was ringing. "I'll get it," he mumbled, hand searching for the telephone on the side of his bed back home. Only he wasn't home, and what he actually grabbed was rather warm and squishy. He squeezed, pulling it to his ear, "'lo?" he asked.

"Um Dean, can I have my hand back?" Seamus asked. Dean's eyes snapped open and he looked around the room, struggling to force it into proper focus. His classmates were leaving the room, apparently he had slept through the entirety of Transfiguration. He only hoped that Professor McGonagal hadn't noticed.

Thankfully the pair managed to slip past her stern look and into the hall. Dean let out a sigh of relief. This day had dragged on and on. What with Seamus being a never ending ball of energy, deflecting the comments that his closed minded school mates directed at his friend with evil glares, and trying to stay awake through his classes, Dean was quite ready for a long nap. Perhaps until breakfast.

Seamus offered to carry the bag containing both of their books and Dean gladly handed it over. The halls were nearly deserted, it being a nice day for the middle of winter and their classmates having decided their time was best spent outside.

"Hey Dean, you wanna go for a walk or something?" the shorter boy mumbled, his face heating up.

Dean missed Seamus' hurt expression when he shook his head in the negative. All he could think of was sleep. And then without warning thoughts of operation Make Seamus Happy banged into his head.

Forcing his eyes further open he grabbed his bag back from Seamus, insisting he be the one to carry it. "You fancy that walk still?" Dean asked, hoping he didn't sound as exhausted as he felt. His head had started a nice steady throb right behind his eyes.

Seamus chewed on his lower lip for a moment before nodding. "It's nice out," he said, gesturing towards the windows they were passing.

Dean nodded, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to. "Okay. I'll dump this bag upstairs and meet you in the entrance hall in ten minutes," he decided, refusing to allow the Irish teen to come with. He had to take care of Seamus like Seamus had taken care of him. Once again he missed the hurt look flashing across his friends face as they parted ways at one of Hogwarts numerous stairways.

Dean was back on track! There would be no stopping him now! He would complete this operation in record time and then he and Seamus would both get to sleep! They could even sleep together, so he could make sure he was still taking care of his best friend and rest at the same time! Wait…

Dean had paused in the middle of the common room, a confused expression playing across his features as his ex girlfriend approached him. She poked his arm once, twice, three times before he finally seemed to become aware of his surroundings. "Dean, you okay?" Ginny asked.

The teen shook his head slowly, trying to force those confusing thoughts back to the depths of his mind again. "Uh yeah, fine." The girl smirked at the lost expression on Dean's face.

"You want to talk about it?" she prodded as he looked about ready to disappear into his mind again.

Once more he was snapped back to the present, his headache making its anger known with pulsing throbs. "Um, no. I think I've got it thanks," he said, hurrying up the staircase to the boys dorms in an effort to avoid her. He tossed the heavy bag onto his bed before sinking down onto the one next to it.

He couldn't think, but he couldn't not think. He buried his face in his hands, growling angrily. He hadn't been this confused since he was first introduced into the wizarding world, but even then he had had Seamus to show him the way. But he couldn't talk to Seamus about Seamus, that wouldn't work at all.

But why was this even an issue. If he was really…gay, wouldn't these thoughts have come up before? Like when he was dating Ginny. Or when Seamus was first outted to the school? Why did it take Blaise locking lips with his best friend throw him into a tailspin.

One little thought began to nag at him, and he tried to push it away. Yet the harder he tried the more easily it came back, slipping through the gaping holes in his mental armor. What if he wasn't gay? What if he just…like Seamus. But that was ridiculous!

Dean fell back, sprawled across the bed, his headache really building up now. Wouldn't he know if he liked his best friend? He was protective of him, but so were Ron and Hermonie over Harry. And he liked spending time with him but that was why they were friends!

_But you were jealous_ a traitorous little voice piped up in his head. _Harry doesn't get jealous of Ron and Hermonie_.

_And you get all flustered whenever he touches you. Or compliments you. And you let him sleep on you,_ another treacherous voice added. Wasn't there supposed to be an angel and a demon here? Not just two demons?

Without quite knowing how it happened, Dean's breathing slowed and he fell into a deep sleep, a thought nagging at the back of his mind. His dreams were all filled of sandy colored hair and a bright laugh that kept dancing out of his reach every time he tried to get closer.

Sometime later he was dimly aware of his shoes and socks being pulled off and the tie around his neck being undone. His body was soon covered with thick blankets against the building nighttime chill. He cracked his eyes open, catching sight of sunlit blond hair.

His arm darted out, clinging to the front of the other's shirt, a small smile on his face. "Gotcha," he muttered before falling back asleep. His arm was tucked back beneath the red and gold blankets and soft warm lips brushed his forehead.

"You've always had me," a quiet voice whispered, breath tickling his ear. But Dean slept on, oblivious.

* * *

Seamus gave up waiting after twenty minutes, sighing to himself. He had wanted to get the other boy alone for a change, maybe get talking about what they had yelled about last night. Or maybe just spend time together, like they used to before this whole mess had popped up.

He retraced his steps to the staircase he had left Dean on, stalking up to the Gryffindor tower. If that boy didn't have a damned good excuse for blowing him off Seamus was going to give him a piece of his mind!

The common room was nearly deserted when he entered, other than Ginny and Neville sitting in front of the fire, both with large piles of work stacked in front of them. The redhead looked up as he entered, noticing his stormy expression, and nodded up towards the dorm.

Seamus stomped up the stairs, not nearly as angry at Dean as he was at the past week, but frustration needed an outlet and if that outlet was going to be hollering at his best mate then so be it.

The words he had carefully rehearsed on his journey up to the room slipped from his mind as he took in the coffee colored boy laying across his bed, legs dangling over the side. Some of his anger melted away and he stepped up to the taller boy quietly.

"Dean?" the other Gryffindor didn't seem to hear him, groaning in his sleep and turning on his side towards Seamus, pulling his long legs up on the bed. Seamus rolled his eyes, pulling off the other's shoes and socks and the tie around his neck.

Before he knew what was happening chocolate eyes blinked open and an arm snagged itself in his shirt. "Gotcha," Dean mumbled barely audible.

Seamus smiled again. "You've always had me," he answered, kissing the other boy's forehead. Dragging the heavy backpack off Dean's bed, Seamus curled up, intent on taking his own brief nap.

* * *

The blond Gryffindor jerked away a few hours later, breathing heavily. His eyes darted around the dorm, looking for signs that what he had dreamed were true but no Lord Voldemort lurked nor did the dead bodies of his mum and sister.

"You 'kay Shay?" Dean asked from the other bed.

"Y-yeah," Seamus replied, voice shaking. "Why?"

"Oh I dunno, maybe the screaming, or was it the terrified look on your face?" the taller boy said dryly. Seamus swallowed, the sound seeming much louder in the quiet room.

"Nightmare," he finally admitted. Dean automatically shifted over on Seamus' bed and the blond crawled next to him, leaning against the headboard and wrapping his arms around his knees. Dean sat up too, one arm around Seamus' shoulders.

"Same one?"

"Yeah."

"It's okay, you know," Dean said. He continued when he received a blank look back. "To be scared of _him_. I mean, you're not the only one," he said.

Seamus shrugged, leaning into the other boy, not noticing the few seconds where his friend seemed to not breathe. "You're never scared of anything," Seamus complained.

Dean smiled, a sad look in his face. "That's not true Shay."

"Yes it is. You never get woken up with nightmares, and you're not afraid of Snape and you're not even too afraid to tell people you like them!" Seamus grumbled.

Dean looked away before deciding sleep was better than continuing this conversation. "We should at least get some of our homework done tonight," he stated, moving to climb off the bed. Seamus tugged at his arm, turning on the sad puppy expression.

"Stay here with me for a little while?" he pouted.

Dean always told himself that the puppy expression wouldn't work this time. That this time he would put his foot down. "You did ditch me earlier," Seamus added, feeling that was a wonderful cherry topper on his guilt sundae.

And once again Seamus moved in for the win. "Fine, just for a little while," he said. Seamus smiled, throwing one arm over Dean's stomach as they both lay on the bed. Dean felt that painful twist in his chest and this time he was pretty sure it came from the direction of his heart which had started to speed up.

His body felt oddly flushed for a winter night as they lay there in the gloom, listening to the noises of the tower all around him. After a few minutes Seamus' breathing leveled out.

Dean wished he could hit his head into a wall at that moment. Why did he always end up in these types of situations? Sleeping on the couch, yelling in the infirmary, sleeping on Seamus' bed. He knew he was the bloke's best friend and all but he was pretty sure some lines were getting crossed that shouldn't. He had never seen Ron lay with Harry after the raven haired teen had woke screaming from one of his dreams.

But he was in the middle of operation Make Seamus Happy, and the sandy headed teen looked pretty happy curled up at Dean's side, and this would enable Dean to keep Seamus happy and sleep. So win-win.

Mind put at ease for the current moment Dean allowed himself to drift to sleep, for the third time that day missing a revealing look that flitted across his friends face. This time one of triumph as the blond snuggled closer to his friend's side, wrapping his arm more securely around his best friend.

* * *

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